Double P
by Quilava's Storybook
Summary: Friendships are strange things. Feelings don't seem to make sense. The subconscious can be a perplexing entity, and our body sometimes has a mind of its own. Fate seems to deal a fickle hand. Innocence doesn't seem to exist, and the moon holds power over it all. Join two eevees on a quest to discover how strong friendship actually is when faced with things out of its control.
1. Once Upon a Time

**Hello, and welcome to my first story! This is an idea that has been fermenting inside me for a long time, and it was one of the few ideas that I had the most passion for. When I began writing it, I was disappointed at what I had written. This story was something I was so passionate about that I wanted every aspect to be perfect. However, my writing was far from perfect, but with enough thought I got it to a point where I was comfortable sharing it. It is impossible for me to grow as a writer with only my input, so please point out any mistakes or things I could do better. So, without further ado, here is the story! I hope by posting it here I can share it with others, and that by doing so you guys can help me make it even better.**

 **Oh yeah. Special thanks to Dranicus101 for encouraging me to post this story, Static Eevee 198 for showing me how courageous one can be, and DeliriousAbsol for giving me the final dose of courage to begin writing. I don't think any of them realize how much they have impacted me, and I don't think any of them meant to impact me in this way, but strange things often happen and I am grateful that they did. Thank you.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own pokemon.**

 **Summary: Friendships are strange things. Feelings don't seem to make sense. The subconscious can be a perplexing entity, and our body sometimes has a mind of its own. Fate seems to deal a fickle hand. Innocence doesn't seem to exist, and not everything is as it seems. Truth and loyalty are necessities, but deceiving lies can easily overthrow them. Destiny can't be changed, but neither can it be proven. And the moon seems to hold a strange power over it all. Join two eevees on their quest to discover how strong friendship can be. (A pokemon fanfiction)**

 **Now, let the storytelling begin!**

Double P

Chapter One-Once Upon a Time...

Two eevees were chasing each other through a meadow, grass towering above them, the sinking sun casting long shadows on the soft dirt. One eevee had small pebble in her mouth, the white, frosty color matching that of the fur covering half of her right ear. The other eevee was chasing the first one, the wind gliding along the pale red skin covering most of her face and neck. It was a burn, a severe one that had scared the fur away from growing back. The burn spread over most of the left side of her face, leaping momentarily onto the ear before reaching down the side of her neck. The normal white fluff that spread over the neck was gone in that area, as if stolen away by some devious hand. The change was abrupt, leaving her neck fluff lopsided. This didn't seem to bother the eevee who wore the scar, Peanut, or her closest friend, Pickle. For now, all they cared about was playing their game.

The chaser bounded after the pebble thief, a note of playfulness in her voice. "Give me back my pebble, you white-furred miscreant!" she shouted.

The other eevee looked back, pretend anger in her tone as she tried to speak around the pebble in her mouth, "you take that back, Ms. No Hair! I only have white fur on the tip of my ear!"

Both pokemon giggled as they continued the chase, racing up a small hill that obtruded the otherwise flat landscape. The pebble stealer tripped on a protruding rock, dropping the small stone. The second eevee took the chance to dive for the stone, picking it up and racing away after checking closely to make sure her friend wasn't hurt. The fallen eevee looked up, and the thief became the chaser as she ran after the stolen pebble, laughter filling her voice "Hey! You can't steal what I've rightfully stolen!" With that remark the eevee bounded after her friend, closing the distance as the grass thinned out around her.

The chase turned into a wrestling match, each pokemon trying their hardest to obtain control of the prize. The match stopped as the eevee with the white tipped ear gave up, unable to release the pebble from her determined friend. Seeing this, the scarred eevee proudly placed the pebble between her paws, before both erupted into fits of laughter.

When the laughter died down, both eevees moved closer to each other, the stone now in front of them. The scarred eevee curled up at the other eevees feet, resting her head on her friend's shoulder, suddenly weary now that the game was over. The eevee with the white-tipped ear lay on the ground, looking up at the rising moon with wonder and awe. She loved the moon, it held some sort of strange fascination with her. It gave her time to think, to wonder, to live, to hope. She couldn't explain why, or how. Just as she couldn't explain how, to her, being near her friend made her happy, and how, to her, the looming war made her scared. The emotions that welled up inside her couldn't be explained, no matter how much the little eevee wanted to discover why. It just… happened.

The white-eared eevee spoke without looking away from the moon, posing a question to her friend. "What… what do you want to evolve into, Peanut?"

The scarred eevee looked up from her resting place on her friend's shoulder, taking time to choose her words before responding with passion. "I want to be a flareon. I want to show how beautiful flames can be, how poetic their wonder is. I know that fire is the thing that scarred me, that changed my life, and many others, for better or for worse… but it makes me want more than ever to show people how beautiful they can be."

"It will be hard to get a firestone," the white eared eevee commented, after taking time to analyze her friend's words and try to understand how she felt.

"I know. But that makes the reward even more worth it. I know I can do it." Determination and passion filled the scarred eevee's voice, and a similarly determined tone was in her friend's voice as she responded, the white tip of her ear waving in the wind with a mind of its own.

"And I will be there every step of the way, Peanut. Even if it takes my whole life I will help you find that stone. I promise." The eevee seemed genuinely surprised at what she had just said, but realized in her heart that those words were true. It was a promise she felt she had to fulfill. For her friend. Just for her.

Peanut's voice wavered as it was filled with genuine gratitude towards the eevee lying next to her, "Thank you, Pickle. Thank you so much."

Time passed as they watched the moon rise ever higher over their heads, the white eared eevee now laying her head against Peanuts. They sat in content quite, until the scarred face of the eevee posed the question back at her friend, "What about you, Pickle? Who do you want to evolve into?"

No hesitation came from the little eevee as she responded, her ears perking at the thought of her dream, "An umbreon… I want to evolve into an umbreon."

No more words were needed to express her desire. Both understood, without having to say it to each other, how deeply being an umbreon meant to the both of them. For, as some say, it was as if one friends dream was also the others. They were so closely connected that another's passion was also their own.

Silence reigned once more, until finally Pickle spoke, worry and fear edging her tone. "Peanut… suppose… suppose evolving changes us. Makes us drift apart because now were… different. I don't want that to happen. And no matter how much I want to evolve, I want out friendship even more. So if it means a choice between being friends and evolving… I want to stay friends with you."

Her words rang out in the silent night air, the scarred eevee's face showing deep gratitude for what had just been said before responding, her words honest and true. "That means a lot, coming from you, and if I had to choose between evolving and being friends with you, I would stay the way I am. But I don't think evolving can change us. Were true friends, and nothing can change that. Not even different appearances, or the war that rages far away from here. It just wouldn't be right to stop our friendship for such small matters. Without you, I feel incomplete. Empty. Alone."

Both eevees looked at each other in silent agreement of the words, before falling fast asleep on each other's shoulders as the night sky watched from above.

The two eevees were awakened in the dead of night by a cold, flaky substance touching their skin. Pickle jumped up in surprise, knocking Peanut sleepily off her perch on the other eevees shoulder. "What the…? What's going here?" the scarred eevee cried, her sleepy demeanor vanishing as she noticed what now was falling all around them. She looked over at her friend, who was trying to hide the surprise she had just felt, but couldn't seem to control her ears. "Snow! Snow!" the scarred eevee said, bouncing around in momentary joy. The leaping eevee paused as she noticed the fear in her friend's eyes, an emotion so strong the white-eared eevee didn't even try to hide it.

"If this is snow… why isn't it white," the white-eared eevee's voice wavered, trying to stop panic from setting in. Both pokemon looked down at the flaky, gray, substance floating down from above. It was, on closer inspection, a dark gray, brittle, substance with a pungent aroma that reeked of evil. Ash. Pickle felt a shiver run down her back as fast advancing storm clouds covered the moon. Not storm clouds… clouds of smoke. Clouds that warned of disaster.

Slowly, the two eevees turned around to face their homes, a small village of grass huts in the middle of the tall grassy fields. The two friends moved closer to each other in an effort to find comfort when they saw hungry flames reaching out to devour the huts, brutal, merciless flames that crunched up their village. Their homes. And in the center of those flames there was a shadow. One that seemed darker than the rest, with ominous red tints where you would think there was a neck. Pickle noticed her scarred friend quivering in fear as she buried her head in her friend's fur, unable to watch. The white-eared eevee turned away as well, closing her eyes and placing her head close to Peanuts, each finding comfort in the others fur. Neither of them watched as their home was burned to the ground.

"Why… why…" the little scarred eevee cried, her tears mixing on the ground with her friends. "We didn't do anything wrong! Why did they have to destroy everything… again! I thought they were gone forever."

Pickle opened her eyes, comforting her friend by hugging the scarred face close to her own. The eevee forced herself to turn back and look at the village, her night vision superior to her scarred friends. She spoke in a small voice, repeating what she saw as her friend huddled closer.

"Our home is farthest away from the fire. It seems to have started near the school building, and is fast heading this way. There are dark figures moving around, I can't tell who they are, they blend in so closely with the night. As each hut lights on fire the villagers inside appear to attempt to flee, but as soon as they reach the shadowy figures they seem to just… disappear." Her voice stopped short as she saw an espeon in the distance, bounding out of the hut nearest to them and looking frantically around, ignoring the flames that sprouted out of her home behind her. She seemed to stand her ground as figures closed in around her, calling out loudly two pokemon's names.

"Mom… mom's over there! She's trying to find us! We have to go help!" the white-eared eevee cried. But no sooner had the little eevee taken one step forward, the espeon had disappeared.

Pickle started sobbing as she watched the scene, tears fast streaming down her face. The little eevee noticed her friend standing motionless next to her, and her eyes fleeted over the burn mark on her friends face. In an attempt to help her friend, she hid the sorrow to the best of her ability, instead taking charge. "Peanut! It's you they are after! You know what they do to pokemon that have escaped! You have to get out of here now! I can hold them off… there's no way that you could outrun them otherwise."

Both eevees looked at each other. They knew each other so well that they could convey thoughts without the need for talking at all. Pickle saw fear, terror even in her friend's eyes. She was reliving an old memory, one that haunted them both for a long time, even though only one had lived it. At the same time she saw sadness hidden behind the fear, and in her drooping ears. That espeon hadn't been her mom, but it was close to it.

Peanut saw determination in the little eevees eyes, a determination that her friend would never get hurt. She also saw sorrow deep inside her white-eared friend, one that Pickle was trying to keep hidden but couldn't seem to control, especially in her drooping ears. She saw that her friend had just witnessed the loss of her mother, the only parent she knew. And she saw that Pickle was even sadder at the thought of being apart from her, Peanut. At the thought that by leaving the scarred eevee, she could no longer protect her. No longer ease her pain by sharing it with her, to no longer be by her side. But her friend was trying her hardest to be brave for Peanut, and Peanut could sense that.

The look in the scarred eevee's eyes turned from fear into determination, a determination that she would not let her friend down. Both pokemon hugged each other close as the army of shadowy figures advanced up the hill, their tears mixing on the soft dirt. They stood in this embrace for what seemed like a long time, an embrace of goodbyes. Of sorrow. But it wasn't long enough. As the shadows raced up the hill, they broke away from each other, ready to go their separate ways. But before Peanut ran down the hill, she picked up the small stone that she had fought so valiantly for a few hours back, and placed it next to her friend. "We will always be together," the scarred eevee whispered, before leaping down the hill and disappearing into the darkness.

Pickle stood in a battle pose, facing the army that now surrounded her. She let out a cry as the shadow pokemon advanced, the stone tucked safely inside the fluff around her neck. "You'll never defeat me! I'm Double P! A pokemon with the strength and strategy of two! You'd better bet you would never win against an eevee fighting for her friend!" With that the hill became a frenzied battleground, Pickle sending up flurries of sand at her enemies before attempting a quick attack. Her enemies quickly evaded her attacks, sending a barrage of shadow balls her way. The little eevee was surprised when she felt her body being crushed by the attacks. Ghost attacks shouldn't affect normal types… right?

Regardless of the pain, the little eevee valiantly fought her cloaked enemies, still unable to discover who they were. She used quick attack once more, and felt it clang harmlessly against the pokemon. Pickle only had one move left to try. She gathered dark energy in her open mouth, forming a small black sphere. She aimed it at the enemy, only to find that the pitiful shadow ball fizzed out before it even reached the target.

She looked wildly around as another barrage of shadow balls hit her from every angle. It was like the spheres of dark energy were trying to suffocate her, crush her, steal all her precious breath away. She couldn't move for the pain that coursed through her body. The little eevee felt herself falling against the ground, unable to stand back up. But despite the circumstance, the little eevee smiled. Her friend had gotten away.

Peanut turned around for one moment as she reached the grassy plains, catching her breath while staring back at where she had come from. The scarred eevee could see the battle from where she stood, her face contorting in horror as she watched her friend being barraged by shadow ball attacks. Maybe she should go back and help… but she had promised her friend she would get away. Pickle was doing all of this for her. She needed to do her part as well.

The scarred eevee raced away once more, tears streaming down her face as her only friend vanished behind her.

 **So, there you go! The first chapter of this story. Hope you enjoyed the first story in this storybook! Keep on reading and writing, and please review and tell me what you thought. I am aware it is far from perfect, but I am also aware that I will need other people's help to make my writing better.**


	2. Alone

**Wow. I did not realize how hard it was to make a story longer than a short story. This is my first long story (kind of. Well, the first real one after a few failed practice attempts), and it certainly has been an uphill climb, but I think I have finally gotten somewhere. Why is this so late, you ask? Why am I assuming that you think it is late, you ask? Well, when I uploaded the first chapter I planned on uploading the next one withing a week or two. However, I realized that it would be easier for me to take a few weeks to write ahead, especially because this whole long story thing was new to me and I was bound to make a few mistakes that would screw me over in the long run. What is the point of saying all this? I'm not sure, but you should know that from now on that I will update faster. I think. Eh, we'll find out. Anyways, to the one person who actually decided to read all the way through these terribly unprofessional author notes, enjoy the story!**

 **Oh yeah, disclaimers. In real life, I don't own pokemon. In my head? Well, that's a different story...**

 **Oh, and thanks to everyone who decided to return to this story and read the (kind of) overdue second chapter, and double thanks to those of you who reviewed. It means a lot. Now, let the storytelling begin!**

Chapter Two-Alone

As Pickle lay on the dusty ground, a slight smile gracing her face at her friends escape, she felt sharp, talon-like objects prick the back of her neck, pinning her to the ground. She tried to hide the fear that surged through her body, but, much to the little eevee's chagrin, her frightened ears stayed firmly pasted to the back of her head. The little eevee was at the mercy of another creature, a creature strong enough to snap her neck with a flick of its strange, shadowy hand.

Pickle considered fighting her way out of the warriors grip, perhaps buying more time for her friend. But where would that get _her_? Would it just tighten her noose on life? No, now was the time for her to watch. Observe. The white-eared eevee needed information if she ever wished slip away and return to life as it was before. A carefree life. One with no worries, as Peanut walked by her side. A life that had never changed. Pickle's white-tipped ear slipped away from the top of her head as the little eevee lost herself in another world, a mystical world where carefree laughter reigned and sweet smiles were infectious to even the grumpiest of creatures. A beautiful world that would never exist, banished by war and terror, feared by doubt and angst.

The white-tipped ear of the eevee returned to its spot in fear as the pressure increased upon her, like that of an increasingly large rock held up by three sharp stakes. With nothing else left to do, the little eevee lifted her eyes, looking between the warriors at the moonlit scene. The flames had all died down, leaving the innocent village in ashes and dark, foreboding clouds hovering above. Little movement occurred in the skeletal town except for the occasional being of shadow, drifting along the charred scene and searching the sorrow-filled ruins.

Pickle turned her gaze towards the direction Peanut had run, attempting to see how far her friend had escaped. The white-eared eevee's seeking gaze finally found her as she turned hairless skin towards the vast, endless plains, leaving the course dirt covered in splashes of salty tears that matched the ones brewing inside of the little eevee. She was so small in this vast emptiness, attempting to reach a tree-lined point in the horizon that seemed to get farther and farther away with each panicked step the scarred eevee took. _Run,_ the little eevee earnestly thought, urging her friend on without having to speak the actual words. _Run far away, as fast as your legs will take_ _you. Don't worry about me. I will come up with a plan. Somehow. I just have to find the weak point. The one loose strand that will unravel the knot and loosen the noose. And once I do, I will find you, protect you. I promise._

The weak point… pondering her own words, the white-eared eevee started carefully observing her recent opponents. Though she couldn't detect any outward features, the creatures appeared to have different body types to each other. She could tell that the ones near her were fairly humanoid, and, from her attacks, she knew they were well armored. Shifting her head to the right, the eevee could see a few bird-like warriors, and here and there an apparent quadruped stood guarding the destruction they had created. All of them seemed fairly bulky in appearance as there were no small, slim warriors, as far as she could see.

It was strange. None of the warriors seemed too… different, something she expected about the ever-growing army. After all, how could you have an army large enough to tear the town to pieces in a few, strangled minutes without some major differences? But no, they were all these ghastly, shadowy figures without anything to give them identity. Except one. One of the shadow beings had caught the eevee's eye in her short scan of the area. The figure was smaller, slimmer. Its inky coat of fur was darker than the other warriors, as if it stole all light that dared to venture near. Large, crimson streaks of red stood out where others had none, and the eevee could swear she saw a playful grin, as if all to that mischievous being was a game.

Large screeches catapulted their way to the eevee's white-tipped ear. Terrified chirps, as sharp as an endangered rodent's squeal, followed the harsh screeching. Straining her eyes to look up towards the sky, the little eevee's eyes widened. Four shadow pokemon, emitting loud screeches, were engaged in a furious battle with two fletchlings. Desperate peck attacks were swiftly dodged, the birds clearly outmatched as they struggled to see the ones they were fighting. The more the eevee watched their desperate struggle, the more she realized that the two, frightened birds were hopelessly overpowered by their much more experienced opponents.

Pickle looked on, hoping against hope that the fletchlings would escape from their aviary opponents. But that was it. All she could do was watch and hope, and that was what she hated most. Maybe if she had spent a little more time thinking of a plan, she could have rescued them both. The little eevee was sure with just a _little_ more thought she could have helped them. Somehow. Instead of being stuck, held to the ground, outnumbered and outmatched by opponents she couldn't even hope to defeat. For once in her life she had acted without forethought, thinking of a plan without knowing the outcome, and she mentally berated herself for doing so.

The cold, smooth pebble hidden against the eevee's skin reminded the little eevee of what she had done. Her plan had helped her dearest friend get away, and that had to be good enough for Pickle. After all, if she had waited to think of something different, who knows what would have happened. Maybe, in her moment of indecision, the warriors would already be at their doorstep. Maybe this had been the best plan. Maybe. At least she could see the outcome of the battle, and thus know where the fletchlings destination lay.

The eevee began to watch the battle in earnest, observing carefully the moves each side made. The shadow birds did the same movements over and over, almost as if they were robotic, synchronized in their fight. But the more the eevee watched, the harder she had to strain her eyes to see. Her vision was slowly fading, black dots clouding what she so desperately wanted to look upon.

Out of nowhere, the white-eared eevee felt a strange sucking sensation at her feet. The sensation spread to her chest and up through the tip of her ears, pushing and pulling, as if warping her body. It was as if the white-eared eevee's whole body was being probed from a million different angles. She could feel herself distorting, as you sometimes do when about to drift off to sleep. The eevee looked back at the battle in the sky, unable to hide her terror as the world seemed to disappear around her. _She was vanishing._

...

Terror was the reigning emotion in the scarred eevee's mind. Terror and despair. Peanut didn't think as her paws carried her away from her charred home and beaten friend. All the scarred eevee could think of was getting away. Getting far away. As far away as possible. She knew she had to take her friends lead, use the extra time to escape her carefree life turned sour. It was why her friend had sacrificed everything for her. Pickle… Peanut let out a small wine as she thought of her friend's name. Her friend… her friend was gone. She would have no hope of escape from the shadow army's prisons. No, Peanut herself had once escaped, a long time ago, with the help of long gone companions. She was sure Pickle could do the same. She just had to trust in Pickle. Trust that her friend would make it out. Somehow. After all, her friend had the most foresight out of the two. Sometimes Pickle even came up with a plan before Peanut realized the situation. That had gotten them into an argument before, but everything had turned out fine. And so would this.

The scarred eevee skidded to a halt, twigs scratching her face and catching in her long fur as the scarred eevee reached the small forest that had been waiting for her on the horizon. She untangled herself from a bush that had suffered the unfortunate fate of being in front of her, and took a few steps back. Looking around, the frightened eevee noticed a shadow darker than the others at the base of a large tree. A hole! The eevee stared into it, gears slowly turning as her brain clicked. She could hide in the hole until the armies left!

Advancing towards the safety of the hole, something caught the scarred eevee's eye. Her jaw almost dropped as she looked at the trail left in her wake. Broken branches and upset leaf covering left a trail easy enough for a blind bat to follow, and the muddy footprints didn't help either. The eevee silently berated herself for not thinking ahead. Why had she left such an obvious trail? Couldn't she have run just a _little_ slower? Peanut wished Pickle was back at her side, observing the scene and thinking of every possible option and the outcomes that followed. What would she be saying now?

The trickle of running water interrupted the eevee's thoughts. She turned, noticing for the first time a swiftly running stream about ten feet ahead. The eevee thought for a little longer, a plan formulating slowly in her mind. Maybe it was time she became a little more like Pickle.

...

The scarred eevee was curled up comfortably in a small hole beneath a great tree. The entrance was blocked by a rough cascade of dirt, with enough holes to allow her to breath. Her plan was executed perfectly, and just seconds after she had hidden herself in the small hole, the feet of shadow warriors pounded past, led by a considerably lighter footstep and the robotic calls of "the trail continues past here!" Now free of any immediate danger, the scarred eevee let herself fall into the hands of exhaustion and sorrow, letting the tears dripping down her face cascade her into sleep. What would become of her friend? Who would protect the small eevee in this cruel, ever-changing world?

...

As quickly as the strange sensation had started, it ended. The white-eared eevee felt her body return to normal, the strange force pulling at her skin disappearing. In the same manner, she expected her sight to return. But it never came. The world remained shrouded in darkness, though her eyes were wide open.

A chill ran up the little eevee's spine as she felt the talons retreat from her neck, letting gravity pull her down to the icy ground. It felt as if she had landed on ice, perfectly smooth and cold to the touch, slowly eating up the heat that surrounded it and replacing it with a frosty air. And yet it was still black, as black as a threatening night when the caring moon is hidden under a cloak of black clouds.

Finding her feet, Pickle twirled, finding a surprising amount of traction on the cold, icy ground, and tried to tackle the being that had dropped her to the floor. But it wasn't there. The shadow warriors who were surrounding her had seemingly vanished, leaving her alone on the cold ground.

A warrior watched in amusement as the feeble creature put on the brakes, realizing there was no one there to fight. This eevee was strange. It seemed undeterred from the moment of surprise and instead tried to feel its way around, reaching high in an attempt to find a ceiling, and cautiously moving in one direction, perhaps trying to find the tall, stone walls that surrounded this empty cavern. It would be a long walk, the warrior mused, watching the spectacle with a grin on her face. The place she was currently in was huge, in an effort to bring fear to its visitors. In such a cavernous room, there was no way of knowing what was out there in the dark. The unknown.

It was a factor used well by the designers of the room. The unknown was the one thing feared in the subconscious, a fear that no creature could escape from, even someone who knew the room as well as she. And fear was the perfect thing to make a creature uneasy, and more susceptible to dangerous emotions that could be used against them.

The shadow warrior smiled, a long, laughing grin, accented by crimson fur at the edges of her mouth. It was the perfect tactic.

The smile slowly faded as she continued to watch the eevee. Something was off. Once more the warrior observed her prey, looking closely to discover the source of her unease. Yes, that was it. The strangely colored ear, dancing as if it was held by a gentle breeze. It seemed the pearl white of the ear glowed, although there was no light for it to reflect.

An involuntary shiver ran across the warrior's inky, black back. It was as if the ear was an omen. A warning to the evil in the world that there was still those who were willing to fight back. To protect the ones they loved. Once more the warrior looked closely at the eevee. The small, quivering creature that appeared no older than a child. No, there was no cause for fear here. Whatever that ear meant, it didn't matter. It was in their clutches.

The grin returned as the shadow warrior vanished, leaving the eevee truly all alone. Alone, a small, insignificant speck in the vast majesty of an endless cavern, with no one at her side. Alone, like a small sandshrew lost in the vast emptiness of swirling desert sands that scratched and stung each time they flicked past. Alone, with a heavy weight atop her shoulders and a strange pressure that sapped all energy held within. Alone, the last being alive on an unwelcoming, empty, pitiless earth.

 **Keep on reading and writing**!


	3. Undying Unknown

**Thanks to everyone who decided to come back and read this story!**

Chapter 3- Undying Unknown

A sharp knock reverberates through a large chasm, sound waves bouncing off the stone walls. Shadows leap around the chasm, dancing an alluring dance with the flickering flames of four feeble torches. As the small flames spark, flaring and roaring a sinister song, the dark shadows retreat, letting their partner grace the dance floor. But as soon as the song sizzles away, the darkness washes back over the floor, turning the tune to a mournful note as it twists and turns, gracefully gliding along. And so the four partners dance, one letting the other shine in the spotlight before swiftly taking their place. Sashaying across the floor, twisting, turning, and throwing their partners in an elaborate set of steps to the sizzling tune of the burning fuel.

And from a perch atop an obsidian throne, a pokemon regally sits, watching the flames and shadows leap and fade, dancing their elaborate dance. He observes their dance, watching as the two elements move synchronized with each other, leaping and gliding along to the crackling tune of the music. It is a strange phenomenon, how light and darkness, seemingly meant to hate each other, can dance to the same tune.

The tune of fire.

A crackling, burning tune that sounded a ferocious melody. A melody of hunger and devastation. A melody that warned of the innocent sparks that could chew up and spit out the things that so many pokemon loved. He loved that melody. It was the only thing he felt he could truly enjoy, and yet it was if he was destined to hate it. All his life the crackling tune of fire was the only thing that comforted him, but now his body hated it. Loathed it. Felt that whatever happened he had to destroy it. And he hated it. Hated that he could no longer enjoy what he loved. But if he could no longer enjoy it, no one else could either.

Once more the knock reached the pokemon's ears, a sharp rap of the paw on a grand stone door. Most of the grand double door was made of inky black obsidian, dark swirls of smooth stone that seemed to steal all the heat from your body when touched, yet still remained icy cold. Yet in the center of all this, large streaks of granite raced through, reaching to touch the ceiling before slicing down again. With each stretch that the gleaming granite made, it got closer and closer to touching the top of the door, in its efforts creating an image resembling a flame. But it never did make it to the top. Life was often that way. No matter how hard you strove to reach your goal, you would never make it. Some things were just impossible, and in this way the hand of fate was cruel.

The pokemon sitting on his obsidian throne looked up from the dance of light and dark. His body was engulfed in an icy haze, gleaming crystals waiting upon his beck and call. The haze hid most of his features, but here and there a white ridge could be seen, and always in an icy glare, cold, black eyes shimmered. The throne itself was made of swirling obsidian, a stone that seemed to steal all light that came near.

The pokemon concentrated on the door, and his sinister eyes began to glow a deep purple. A similar glow engulfed the door, glinting off fiery gems embedded in it to create an eerie maroon light that joined in the dance to the sizzling song. Slowly, the doors were opened, the floor groaning and creaking under their weight. The pokemon smiled to himself as he did so. A slow, devious grin. What genius it was to create these doors! For these stone doors could only be opened by himself, and thus none could enter or leave without his bidding, and he would be safe in the confines of the unbreakable walls, where no paw could touch him without his will. Some might call his suspicion paranoia. He called it the reason he was still alive.

The knocker entered the room, torchlight pouring in from the corridor behind him, joining the dance with the four original pairs. She was a zorua, and one quite unlike all the others. Against her neck was a spotted, gray pebble, held safely on woven cord. Her shadowy black fur absorbed all light that dare enter the area, creating the image of a perpetual shadow. What wasn't a deep black was a scarlet red, the only color that revealed her presence. It spread around her neck and atop her eyes, adding definition to her features where there wasn't any. The scarlet red also leapt atop the fur on her head and graced her feet momentarily, accenting deadly claws on otherwise friendly paws. And last of all, a spark of red painted the edges of her perpetual grin, matching perfectly the playful eyes of the zorua.

Padding softly behind the zorua was a persian, silky cream fur mixed with a smoky gray, as if her pelt was stained with an ashy smoke. She held herself with an arrogant air, head high, shoulders back as sharp claws hid dangerously behind unassuming paws. Though twice the size of her shadowy comrade, the Persian was of a lower rank, forcing her to walk submissively behind the zorua.

Despite the crimson shadows' outwardly playful demeanor, she shivered inside. Much of the room the zorua had just entered was not covered in shadows, but rather in complete darkness. The contents of this darkness where unknown to her, and deep inside her subconscious the shadowy zorua was scared of it. Like most on her planet, the unknown held a primal fear with it. Every time something unknown appeared, the subconscious part of their minds created fearful images of _what could happen_. There could be an attacker lurking within it, ready to lash out with sharp claws, or perhaps a poison of some kind seeping through the stony walls. Granted, most of this was unlikely, but whatever the zorua's conscious said to the subconscious, she couldn't shake away that the dangers could be real.

The shadowy zorua took the last, fearful step into this dark room, and the large, cold doors creaked shut behind her. Just as quickly as the light had come when the doors opened, it vanished as they closed, leaving only the four original partners left in the room. As the purple light diminished the king sitting atop his throne turned his icy glare to the zorua who had entered the room. The zorua bowed, legs shaking slightly as she let her face fall to the floor. It was a routine she had performed many times, but the thought of relaying bad news caused her more than her fair share of stress. Despite this, though, the zorua let her devious grin play on her face as she awaited the gift of speaking to be given to her. If she couldn't worm her way out of this one, she didn't know who could, especially not the ignorant persian who had walked in behind her.

The zorua did not wait long in her shaky stance, as the king called out from his throne, his voice as apt to bring shivers down a subjects back as the cold obsidian they stood on was. "I am awaiting your news, general," the king snarled, his icy eyes glaring at the feeble zorua bowing before him.

"We carried out the raid on the eastern plains tribe as you wished, sire. I took the pleasure of beginning the blaze myself and had our shadow troops take the villagers as they fled from the fire," despite the zorua's inward fright, she let her voice echo across the room, no fear in its tone, and the king narrowed his eyes in suspicion. After a moment's thought, he called out, this time aiming his sneer at the persian who had entered the room along with the general, as if mocking the cat. "And who did you capture this time?" the king sneered, an icy haze forming around his body as he accented "who" and "this" with a spiteful tone.

"Two trubbish, a mincinno, a few rattata, two raticate, a ponyta and rapidash, an espeon, an eevee, and two fletchling nesting in a nearby tree," this time, despite the zorua's best efforts, her voice carried a hint of fear, and the king's suspicion grew. His suspicion quickly turned to surprise at the last few pokemon listed.

"And what, might I ask, are two members of the eevee family doing in the plains village?" he hissed, watching the zorua squirm under his gaze. The king, of course, already knew the answer, but hearing it for himself from one of his highest ranking generals gave him a hint of pleasure.

"Oh yes, please, tell us," the persian that had been listening in behind the zorua hissed as he stood from his seat and prowled around the still bowing zorua, almost smirking at the king, as if winning an untold bet. "I would _really_ like to know how there are two members of the eevee family roaming free out there. After all, didn't the great General B destroy them all? Wasn't it her task to imprison _every_ last one of them for our king? Boy, I really would _hate_ it if the general who got all the praise for such a job well done… didn't actually do it correctly in the first place." The persian's voice was laced with sarcasm as it hissed along, clearly enjoying the scene. After all, if the most praised general in her king's army had made such a terrible mistake, then surely she would rise higher in the ranks because of it. "Now then, look our king in the eyes and please, tell us how that must have occurred" as the persian said those words, she took a single, sharp, gleaming claw, placing it beneath the bowed zorua's neck and forcing the shadowy pokemon's head up.

The zorua gulped, glancing nervously at the persian's claw before replying, thinking fast "Surely, lord, it is impossible for me to find them all. One unnoticed egg, and there is a new eevee in the ranks of pokemon. Besides, I wasn't the one who was supposed to track them down." The zorua glanced at the persian as she said those words, before continuing. "Plus, you have been a bit sour lately. A new playmate might do you good."

The persian smirked as the zorua started talking, ignoring the crimson shadows words all-together in her confidence as she carefully observed the generals features. Her confident gaze turned to a glare as she noticed the zorua's playful eyes and smile, irked that she couldn't wipe them from that pokemon's face. No matter, the persian thought. She was still going to milk this for all it was worth, for it was rare that the persian got a chance to play with the other generals. "What a disappointment. Maybe I should be the highest ranking general instead, I certainly do my job right." However, the smirk was wiped off the persian's face as she felt the cold, disapproving stare of her master. She retracted her claw and slowly backed off, painfully hitting her rear end against the cold door. "I was, uh, just joking with her, sire. I-I'm sure you could understand, right?"

The king looked down at his two generals with disapproving glares, before icily ordering the persian to be silent, giving the cat a mocking grin.

Drinking in the icy mist that surrounded him, the king's cold voice once more bounced off the rooms walls. "Very well, General B. I will forgive you this once, if only because now I have another prisoner to play with. But tell me. Your mission was to recapture prisoner A-4709, who was reported to be in the area. I trust you did just that?"

The king allowed himself a small smile as again he watched his best general squirm. "Well, umm, no sire. The soldiers report that prisoner A-4709 was last seen escaping into the forest. They would have taken chase, but the eevee we captured held them off for just long enough that he, uh, got away."

The room wavered in a dangerous silence as the mist around the king thickened, hiding his presence completely. Muttering punishing words, the king leapt from his throne, pacing around his general, whispering in his ears. For the first time, the zorua's smile slipped from his grasp as he listened to words known only to the crimson shadow and his king.

Returning to his throne with the flick of his tail, the king gave one last order to the generals before beckoning their leave, "You two disappoint me. Send the two fletchlings and the ponyta family to the chamber and keep the eevee and espeon in the caverns. Tell Joker to continue with normal protocol for the fletchlings and ponyta family. As for you, take General E with you. You will hunt down prisoner A-4709 and bring it to me. Do whatever it takes, but don't return here without it, or the weight of letting a prisoner escape will be on your heads. Now go! Leave at once, and don't come back until you have it in your clutches, or you might just end up losing it like everyone else."

"What about the others," the zorua asked, ice crystals clinging to her body as she let the mischievous grin return.

"Whatever you wish," the king slowly said, a hint of a smile peering through the icy haze, "they are yours to play with it."

Moments later all that was left of the generals' presences were a few melting ice crystals as they raced down the hall to do their job.

The king sat back on his icy throne, conversing quietly with someone even though he seemed to be the only one in the room. "Was General B telling the truth?"

"Yes, sire," the voice whispered, an unnoticeable mocking in its chilling tone, "but she left out one important detail. The eevee that was captured…"

The king looked surprised as the voice continued, leaning in to catch every last detail, for the first time that day, no suspicion crossing his face. When the conversation ended, he leapt from his throne, stalking out of the room.

"And where might you be going?" the voice eerily questioned.

"To the caverns. It's time I had some fun."

Pickle finally sat, giving up her search for something in this cavernous room. Shivering, the eevee warily glanced about, unable to penetrate the darkness with just her eyes as a guide. She felt as if a million hostile eyes were stalking her. Watching, waiting just beyond her reach for the perfect moment to end their little game. The white-eared eevee flattened herself to the floor, attempting to find comfort in the solid ground beneath her. But the icy ground just chilled the eevee more, as if its sole purpose in this world was to steal away the eevee's life, bit by bit digging into her with sharp, freezing talons.

For the first time the eevee felt as if a tremendous pressure had been put upon her shoulders, as if she was the famed god Atlas, destined to forever hold the weight of the world. The eevee feebly reached into the air once more, weary paws forced to dance a cruel dance as they endlessly searched for something known. Something that the eevee could grasp onto and hold close as the world fast rushed by her frightened face. But there was nothing there. Only swirling, dark air, stagnant in taste and empty of any odor but her own, filled with a chilling silence that bit at her swiveling ears and nipped at her weary paws. A silence that caused shivers to prick along her back, filled only with the sound of her own echoing footsteps and lonely cries, feeble trickles of sound that wasted away in the cavern, filled with empty longing destined never to be fulfilled.

The eevee felt as if she was the only being in a cavern of ravenous shadows and desperate, chilling, unwelcoming air.

Pickle finally settled in a flat spot on the chilling ground, head upon her paws, muscles tense, eyes endlessly searching for things it can't see, unable to suppress the ancient, fearful feeling that caused her ears to endlessly perk, searching for any clues that someone was out there. Forcing her mind away from the cavern, Pickle recalled the battle that seemed to have occurred so long ago, so far away. She had known the two fletchling, often seen them flit through the sky with careless abandon. Star and Sprite, she recalled, where their names, two siblings who often fought as they flew through the sky, but always seemed to be friends when they returned to the ground below.

The little eevee hoped that she and Peanut would be the same way if they ever fought. It was strange. Most people said friendships grew stronger over struggles shared together, but they never seemed to fight at all. Only once had the two eevees argued, but neither of them truly meant what they said and their fight fizzled out. The incident was small, but she remembered it well. She remembered every harsh word they said to each other, and the long moments of separation that followed. Recalling the memory wasn't pleasant, but it was something that lingered in her mind, unable to be pushed away. It was the one time where she had forgotten forethought, leaving her saying whatever wished to leap from her mouth without really thinking about the results.

The white tipped ear softly slipped down the eevee's head, fear left in the dust as regret took its place. The little eevee had never truly forgiven herself for what she said, and certainly never forgot it. Forgiving her friend was a lot easier, but for some reason, the little eevee could never really forgive herself. Maybe… her friend had never really forgiven her either. It was certainly hard to tell if someone meant something when they said it, or actually felt the emotions that they portrayed. Maybe Peanut had never forgiven her at all…

Without the little eevee realizing, her ears had begun to droop in a special kind of sorrow. Regret and doubt, mixed into a swirling brew that threatened to cleanse the eevee's cavernous conscious off the one thing that only true friendship could be built off of. Trust.

Remembering the pebble, Pickle pulled the shining stone from her fur, sorrow tinging the happy memory as the eevee ran her paw along the edge. Laughter leaped from the pebble, chasing away the chilling silence that roamed free in Pickle's mind, forever memories that had been frightened away. Resting her cheek against the pebble, Pickle was filled with an undying warmth that spread from her cheek and down to her paws, drifting softly to the tip of her tail. In this undying unknown, here was something she knew.

Rough paws appeared from a hole beneath a great tree, softly digging their way into the unknown. The face of an eevee appeared beneath the rubble, the right half stolen of its fur by scorching flames, salty stains running down the bare skin from a cry long-gone in the midst of the morning. Peanut emerged from her den, glancing fearfully for signs of life before giving a long stretch to her aching muscles. Only hours ago, the dark veil of night had sent her fleeing, smoke rising in a spiral as the frightened eevee ran from everything she knew, to a forest that was forever the unknown, lurking dauntingly on the horizon.

The eevee's ears twitched nervously as she cautiously returned the way she came, unable to resist the urge to go back home. Upon reaching the edge of the forest, though, the eevee stopped, her body unable to leave the cover that had hidden her the night before. Instead the eevee strained her eyes to see the broken skeleton of a village, smoke brewing in clouds above, remnants of an ancient past.

As the sun rose, witnessing what had occurred during the inky protection of night's dark blanket, large salmon-colored streaks lit up the dawning sky, spiraling inwards as if in a silently weeping hurricane. Between these soft, salmon streaks, a dark, blue-ish gray resided as the blue sky tried to shine through the smoky mist, remnants of the foreboding clouds of ash and smoke. It was the sun's last laments, a mournful signal to show what had befallen the last town of the plains tribe. A subtle weeping as the sun spread mournful light over a village forever in ashes.

The sun rose higher, mixing the salmon streaks with the ash-blue mist. It had grieved for the town. A long, sorrowful weep. But it was time for the sun to move on. To rise higher and shine light on those who are shrouded in darkness, until finally it was time to rest in the night. And as it lays to rest, the same salmon streak will once more light up the sky. A final song for all who have been lost during its silent reign.

Peanut stood, silently grieving as she softly towards her scarred face back towards the valley. It was time for her to move on too, for if she wasted all her time on tears there would be nothing left to keep her alive, and alive she would be when her friend returned. If her friend returned.

The scarred eevee walked into the forest, leaving her devastated home to the whispering wind, with the watchful sun at her back, softly padding on her own weeping shadow as she left forever into the undying unknown.

 **Well, that was... interesting. Keep on reading and writing, and please review! There is no way for me to get better as a writer without it.**


	4. Cat's Paw

**...**

 **...**

 ***sigh***

 **Sorry for not uploading, guys. I just... couldn't. Yeah, sounds silly, even when I say it.**

* * *

Darkness. Blackness. The cold unknown, like a void before her. A small figure in the dark, wobbling, crying, pain in its gaze, its figure remnants, scraps of dark haze. Paws stepped out of the mist- soft brown rippling in tides as the mist swirled, dancing, its mystical illusion shielding her from sight. And then another step, and it shattered, sharp splinters of cold darkness catapulting into the unknown, out of sight. Unveiled was an eevee, her steps weak, her face charred. Emotion swelled, the eevee pulled forwards as she neared, paws thundered on ground that wasn't there. Then the eevee screeched, the mist returned, a scarlet red with a hissing cackle as it sliced her like shards of broken glass. She smelled a scent- the scent of death and disease, of horror and terror, of withered leaves and dying trees. The scent was downright evil.

Pickle shivered, her eyes open, the pebble clashing on the floor in the remnants of her dream. _I promised I'd protect you…_

The darkness seemed to shiver beneath her gaze, wavering and swirling yet always staying the same. She couldn't tell if she was awake, no light entered her gaze. It was black. And dark. As if light could never exist in such a world. She stumbled in the darkness, on the cold, icy floor that slipped her paws away. The white-eared eevee breathed a sigh of relief when her flailing paws landed on something round and smooth, and she stashed the pebble safely back in her mane. With an inward sigh, she stumbled away, paws tumbling over dips in the floor, eyes staring uselessly about.

It's odd losing a sense you always had. It's as if your world has been turned upside down and shaken vigorously. Nothing is the same- other senses battled to fulfill the roll, but only ended up harbingers of doom. It was as if to live with sight was to work with every other sense, and to lose this site was to create a turmoil of senses begging to take over its role, yet no knowing how to do so.

And so the eevee staggered about, her senses pulling her every way but to safety.

A sharp _clunk_ shattered the silence, rattling the endless cavern, echoing with harsh resoundment. Pickle staggered beneath the weight of the noise, and whispers chilled down her back, too quiet for her to hear, hissing in a frosty crescendo. She felt the presence of some sort of being, and her fur splintered at its frozen reek and eyes gleaming of malice. Of course, that's what she presumed- what other creature could make one want to wither to the ground with just the slightest hint of its presence?

The white-eared eevee froze as she felt the air around her grow frosty cold. Frozen breath crept over her face, and biting ice crystals formed on each hair. Without a hint of light she could feel a creature's stony gaze, cold and black, chilling as obsidian. Her eyes knew they should be seeing a frosty haze, but no light came to glitter off their crystals, nor dance with their touch. It was all black, starless black, darkness of unexplainable proportions, as if she were trapped beneath endless layers of earth infinite as the atmosphere.

Truly, she was.

 _Kah. Kah. Kah. Kah._ The footsteps strangled the cavern's silence. _Kah. Kah. Kah. Kah._

 _Hah. Hah. Hah._ Its breath crawled down her spine like a poisonous spider, and the dank air shifted with a perilous breeze as the creature swept around her- pausing for just a moment right near her white-tipped ear. It tingled, wilted at the creature's presence.

As if by some abrupt decision, the noise started again- it seemed more... cynical this time. Thoughtful.

 _Kah. Kah. Kah._

 _Whoooosh._

 _Kah. Kah. Kah._

 _Hah. Ha._

 _Eeeeah!_

And with that final blood-chilling screech, It was gone. The air turned musty, moldy, morose, but her fur was still chilled, pricked with unease as frost gripped at her veins, gnawing with sharp, freezing teeth. She turned to stare at the clunk's creator, surprised to find her coal-black eyes picking up faint drifts of light that seemed to come from the creator itself. The creator, she discovered, was a single stone, jaggedly shaped into an ovular rock. The light it emitted was ruby, with a crimson flare that glittered with sickening light. Shadows crawled over the ground as the stone sizzled, an ominous omen in the dancing light. From somewhere deep in the stone, flames crackled, growled as if fighting to escape like a heart beating against its cage. And yet the stone's cozening light bathed the eevee, alone in the echoing cavern, and as she neared, the frost melted, sighing as it slipped to the floor.

 _Fire stone._

She drew closer to the glistening rock, unable to escape the sirens pull. Lifting one, silent paw, she reached to touch it, golden fur leaping towards it as the growling flame sang.

Her conscious tugged its crystalline string. Her subconscious roped around her neck, playing tug-of-war with the being.

Her thoughts whirled with consequences and dread, shifting, howling, billowing, braying, like the silver serpents who danced in the wind.

But the moons pull was fading.

And the flame of fire drew closer.

And Pickle touched the stone.

* * *

As the playwriter would say, the scene opened on a day of perilous beauty in a forest on the horizon of the moor. A stream cackled its laments, babbling story after story after story to the life around it. And life, there was- trees scattered thickly amongst each other, pine, oak, and birch alike. Tendrils of ivy swam up their gnarly trunks, and assorted tangles of bushes wrought the forest floor. In this scene, two actors stood, and one, just offstage, their prey.

"Typical," a one of the actor's muttered- a persian, whose cream hair was flecked with ash-grey, who held a voice like hail on a windy day. "Just typical. One stupid mistake from this _general_ and I'm off on a wild goose chase!"

"I can hear you, you know," a shadowy zorua called as she searched the horizon forest, her voice shrill with youth.

"Hmmph," the persian snorted, pacing back and forth beside a stream in such a manner that one would presume she was actually faking her distaste. "So?"

"Well, you might not want to be trash-talking the King so loudly!" _or me for that matter,_ the zorua added, her own voice laced with the drug of warning.

"Well, what's he going to do," the cat sneered, turning on her comrade. "I, for one, don't even have a clue of why you are following him, or anyone else for that matter!"

The zorua's eyes widened as she listened to her comrade, "Are you talking mutiny?"

Ah, yes, that seemed such a silly thing to say in any other time- but really, this zorua thought it might be true!

"Not that you know of," the sly cat hissed, circling her comrade aggressively. "Plus, you never answered my question," she added with child-like glee.

The zorua snorted, heading back to the stream and sniffing the ground for any scent trail, "I follow The King because I have no choice! Everyone out there hates me, hates us! _He_ was the only one who would let us in."

"Well, I for one have no gratitude. I think you are all just a bunch of fools, blind pokemon following another blind pokemon. We don't even know what his plans are, for Arceus' sake! Any right-minded creature wouldn't follow his stupid orders."

"Then why are you following him?"

The persian didn't answer, instead she walked back along the path, grumbling, "Dogs! The lot of you, dogs! Half-witted fools! You don't even know what you are following. And why, because you are afraid of what he might do to you? Because you feel _gratitude,_ " she spoke the word as if it didn't exist, a fool's tale made of fool's gold. "Speaking of which," she added, raising her voice, "I found the trail of out little _friend_. Seems she made a den here for the night, and is headed that way," the persian pointed in the direction with her tail, before letting the zorua run ahead of her. A sly grin spread over the cats face as she padded after, careful to stay a few dozen feet away. Perhaps, if you ever confided with her, she might just tell you why.

The prey, as she called it, was in fact racing away from that place in just the direction the cat had sniffed out, her feet like steady drops of rain against the shadow-laden ground.

Peanut's journey had begun- it's destination, she did not know. It's purpose, she did not know.

It's driving force?

To feel secure and at home again, so that the world around her no longer rose to crusted tears. To feel light and giddy. To have her friend back at her side, just as it was before, and just as it would always be, until the eternity of nothing whispered into her ear.

* * *

Immediately Pickle knew she had done wrong, pulling her paw away from the devil's temptation. What a shame that just a touch could subject her to its fate.

Flames erupted from the stone, dashing out of its depths as it ripped at her flank, whirling around her in a tornado of sizzling heat. The flames tugged at her ears, gnawed at her paws, ripped at her tail. She felt heat sear her fur, as if every tip was being blackened, shriveling in the sizzling fire. For a moment the eevee could see the endless cavern that held her captive, astonished that her eyes could now pick out every detail of stone. But then blinding white light clouded her vision, and the eevee squeezed her eyes shut, blinded by light as harsh as darkness, an ironic twist of faith's withered hand. Writhing, she screamed with agony as the flames seared her skin, scorching every fiber of her body and breaking her bones to dust. Every particle cried out in distress as her very DNA changed inside her, and all the little eevee wanted to do was shrivel to the floor, like a withered leaf falling silently from its dying tree.

And then it stopped, and she would have breathed a sigh of relief had the breath not been stolen from her clay form. A muscle twitched, and her heart spasmed, causing legs to thrash strenuously in the rapidly fading light and lungs to rip oxygen from the air like a wild bull tearing at the red flag.

Her form fell still, but for a momentary gasp as the machine of a heart thumped in its cage, and steadily droned into the dark.


End file.
